A Little Girl With Great Big Plans

I think I was smoking crack when I decided to sign my family up for the Bolder Boulder 10K.  The problem is, before you can run 6.2 miles, you have to be able to run ONE mile.  And then two, and then three and four and five, and even though it doesn't sound like a lot it kind of is.  I didn't realize it either until I tried to walk up a flight of stairs and talk on the phone at the same time without sounding like I was hauling 80 pounds of granite on my back - when the person on the other end asks if you're trying to blow the little pig's house down, that's your first clue that maybe you've bitten off more than you can chew.

Today when I was running I was thinking about two things:  One, how much I hated running and two, that there was half of a leftover burrito waiting for me at home when I was done.  Which just goes to show you, motivation is personal. 

Since we are doing this as a family Drew and I get up at 6 am a couple of mornings a week to get the running in before he has to go to school.  This kills me, and one day last week as we walked out of the gym I was thinking how our next family goal should be who can eat the most ice cream bars at Disneyland when Drew looked over at me and said, "Well, we're getting better!"  I wanted to hug him and smooch him on the cheek and take him to Disneyland right that moment.  But he just turned 11, and although he still allows the side hug before boarding the morning bus, I don't want to push my luck.

Saturday, however, I was doing my run alone, had about a mile to go, and wanted to sit down on the side of the road and call Jimmy John's to deliver me a sandwich.  I had already stopped four times to catch my breath, and even though I was approaching a downhill grade I simply didn't feel like I had anything left to give when guess what happened?  You guys, Mindy saved my life.  Not this Mindy,

(Mindy Cohn from "The Facts of Life")

Or THIS Mindy:

(From the sitcom "Mork & Mindy")

No, I'm talking about this Mindy.  I'm sure you've heard of her before.  She's a singer, which I love.  She just cut her hair super short, which I love.  She also reads my blog, which I LOVE love.  But most importantly on Saturday, when my feet wanted to stop and my heart wanted to rest and my stomach wanted some cereal, her voice began streaming through my iPod and just like that, my feet, heart and stomach said they could keep going.  

"I'm gonna walk a hundred miles" (talk about an overachiever)

"I'm gonna whistle all the while" (she's obviously never seen me exercise)

"If that's what it takes to make me smile" (it's not, but okay)

"I'm gonna walk a hundred miles" (or jog for one, as the case may be)

The lyrics make me feel like I'm 8 years old again, back when my friend's mom taught me ballet and she thought I had great potential.  It was before I turned 40 and tried to run a mile for each of those decades without stopping to breathe, pee, or order pizza.  Mindy makes me feel like maybe I actually CAN run right up that hill..."and maybe I'm just a little girl, a little girl with great big plans."